So my lovely wife is ten weeks pregnant, and I am feeling vague twinges of guilt. She gets nauseated; she doesn't have much energy; her boobs are giant and painful, and it's all only going to get worse. Even worse, she can't relax, put her feet up, and have a beer or a smoke or something to take the edge off. I know she's deliriously happy to be growing a little person inside of her, and once the baby is here we can both take on the responsibility, but for now she has to do all the heavy lifting. To top it all off, she's the one who works full-time outside the home. I mean, she's not putting together cars or anything, it's a desk job, but she still has to get up early and come home late.
As I sit around writing blogs and smoking my hookah, I do wish there were a way for me to share in the burden of pregnancy. I try -- I try to get her anything she needs, be very patient and groovy and anticipate what will make her more comfortable, but in the end, I'm still on the outside. So all I can do is make sure she knows how much I appreciate her.
C'mon science, there ought to be a way for us to trade off. Like, "you take the uterus for a month, and I'll party like a rockstar, then we'll trade off." Lego pregnancy, that's what we need. Pop the belly off and snap it on somebody else, and just keep tradin' off.
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